Crushing
by Cinerari
Summary: A hiding place for all my embarrassing Harlock/Daiba and Harlock/Zero drabbles.
1. Crushing (HarlockDaiba)

**Ahh, don't look at me. Well, Sora requested that I post one of the Harlock/Daiba fics that I'd written, but...they're all so old and bad. I just couldn't do it. Plus most of them are really dark and angsty, so I tried to write a fluff fic. I cannot write romance, and I especially cannot write fluff, but here you go, Sora. I hope you like it, dear. Maybe I'll try again sometime and it won't turn out so nonsensical and silly.**

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Daiba was acting strange. Harlock did not like for his crewmen to act strange, at least not more so than usual. It put him on edge.

"Now we've been over this before, and unless you start learning from your mistakes and stop running off on your own, especially when I tell you not to…" he stopped, realizing his audience was no longer listening. The teen had taken to staring at him, his eyes glazed over by some other thought. "Daiba," the captain snapped.

"Yes sir!" the blond responded automatically, blinking himself into the present and straightening his back at attention.

"What did I just say?"

"Um…I was being stupid, and I need to stop."

Well, he wasn't exactly wrong, Harlock thought. "You could at least bother to look like you're paying attention," he scolded lazily.

"I was paying attention!" He wasn't lying. He had been paying attention. He'd just…kind of stopped. It was just hard to stay focused around the captain was all. Not his fault.

It was especially difficult this time because Harlock had taken off his cape and gloves, draped them across the back of his desk chair. The captain was rarely seen without his cape outside of a space suit, and Daiba just found it strangely distracting. He liked to study the man's hands when he occasionally gestured, probably while scolding the younger pirate about something.

And once again, the short blond had zoned out. Without prompting, he began to pout. "You're too tall."

"What?" the captain frowned in confusion.

A white-gloved hand shot to the teen's mouth. He'd said that out loud?

As if to save him, there came a knock at the massive oak doors leading into the captain's chambers. "Come in," Harlock called.

Kei pushed her way in, looking a bit worse for wear. "Captain, could you come check over some calibrations for me?"

"What for? Can't do that yourself?"

The girl had apparently been working at it for some time and was mildly irritated. "The numbers aren't adding up, Captain," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Now I know this is a difficult concept, but could you come help me with something?"

"I…can," he blinked. He really hadn't meant any offense, and as he walked toward her, he attempted an uncomfortable apology.

Daiba was left forgotten in the room as the two shut the door behind them.

He rocked back on his heels, staring around curiously. He'd rarely been in the captain's room before, and certainly never alone in it. Miime must have been up at the bridge, so he had the area to himself.

It was a dim room, much like the rest of the ship, but it had a much larger window to the outside than his own. The bed was way nicer too. He wondered if it was more comfortable.

Then his eye caught the accessories still hanging over the captain's chair. He sure had nice chairs. Feeling a bit like a curious cat, Daiba crept toward the desk on the balls of his feet, glanced back over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming, and snatched up one of the gloves.

Of course, it was much too big for his hand, actually fitting over his own glove. The fingers were way too long, and it would have fallen off if he'd dropped his arm. Still, he grabbed the other glove and pulled it on as well.

The captain's gloves were way better than his own, he decided. Maroon was cooler, and all the burns and wear from their use made them obviously of a higher standard. The captain wouldn't mind if he wore them for a minute.

And while he was comparing his wardrobe, he saw no reason not to try on the cape too. He whipped it around himself, latching it in the front. Like the gloves, the thing swallowed him and dragged against the floor. He cursed his small stature, but he liked the cape. It made him feel bigger. He needed one. He was much too small, and it seemed he'd stopped growing. He'd always look like a child at this rate. Definitely needed a cape.

The chair too – he needed to test that out. After all, what if he needed to take over the ship at some point? He needed to be accustomed to all the amenities.

Instead of simply sitting down, he pushed himself backwards over one armrest and plopped down across the seat, almost lying back with his legs hanging over the side. Yes, he decided, he rather liked the chair.

He liked the smell of the captain's cape too. Pulling up the front, he buried his nose in it – red wine, a hint of ash and a bit of the captain's own husky scent. The teen felt himself blushing into the fabric. What was he even doing?

Of course the captain would tell him he was being weird and certainly would not approve of his behavior, so the small pirate needed to make himself scarce.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the door opened. Oh shit, there was the captain now.

The man stood in the doorway, blinking. He considered stepping back out, because surely he was imagining things and if he came back in a second time Daiba would not be lying across his chair…or wearing his gloves and cape.

The blond blinked back. Alright…maybe he should have thought this through more. He quickly pulled himself from the seat, but found that putting all of his weight against the armrest was another thing he should have thought through as the entire chair tipped over, and he landed in an ungraceful heap.

From there, he jumped up, one of his gloves falling to the floor.

"Daiba," Harlock greeted.

A scarlet blush consumed the teen's features. He refused to acknowledge the call in any way simply because he couldn't. He was too damn embarrassed to form a coherent thought. He just needed to leave. Yes, that was a good idea.

The captain, for all his confusion, found himself thinking something he didn't want to. And no matter how much he mentally pushed against it, the thought remained. Daiba, in his cape with one glove barely hanging on and a stunning blush, was…very cute.

This thought concerned him greatly.

The poor flustered teen was struggling to remove the cape, his hands shaking too much to allow him the simple movement. So Harlock stepped forward and undid it for him. As soon as it was off, he found the small pirate ducking under his arm and running in a sprint out the door.

"My other glove…" the captain said to the empty air. Well, he had extras.

Kei, who'd been a short ways behind him, peered curiously into the room. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Harlock shrugged.

"He looked panicked."

"Well he's been acting strangely for the past few days. Maybe he's sick or something."

A spark of realization ignited in the girl's mind. She really didn't need to be meddling. It wasn't her business, but ooh she just had to do something.

"I'll bet I know what it is," she hummed, biting back a grin as she stepped into the room.

The captain righted his chair and picked up his unpaired glove. "You do?"

"Sure, name something weird he's done."

Not truly concerned about the matter, Harlock simply began to fold his cape. "Well…he told me I was too tall for some reason."

The blonde's eyes shone with glee. "Now come on, Captain, think about it. When someone's too much taller than you, you can't kiss them, now can you?"

The newly-folded cape fell to the floor. "Don't joke about things like that," he wheezed.

"Oh, he's obviously got a crush on you, Captain. It's cute."

"It's not cute!" Harlock bristled.

"Yes it is. You're probably one of his first little crushes."

"People with crushes do not put on your clothes!"

"Aww, he did? He must be crushing hard then. But of course he would. Closest thing to cuddling he can get."

A blush from the captain was rare, as was his current expression of shock and terror. Daiba could not have a crush on him. Daiba was still only…no wait, he'd told Daiba to be a man and that would entail adult relationships. Wait, why was he even considering this? He did not have relationships with any of his crewmen, no matter the circumstances. Not that there were any circumstances here. This was Daiba he was talking about. Why was he getting so flustered over this? Just go turn the boy's affections down gently – no, don't bring them up at all.

Yes, that would solve everything. They would simply never speak of any of this again.

"Captain," Kei frowned, as though she could read his thoughts. "Go talk to him."

"Why?" That went completely against his solution.

"Because when he ran out of here, he looked really upset, and he had one of your gloves. You can use the excuse that you're going to get it back."

This was true. Excuses were good… No, he scolded himself, excuses were not good.

But in this one case they were.

So he put on his cape and his one glove, and he followed his youngest crewman to his room. All he needed to do was go in, take the glove, and tell the blond that crushes were not allowed. That would have been simple had Daiba not been crying when he stepped into the room.

He should have knocked.

"What's wrong?" he attempted.

"Nothing," the teen huffed, wiping at his tears in frustration. He sat on his bed, the glove beside him.

"Why are you crying then?"

"I'm not!"

"I see." If the boy was crying, then that was his business. The captain just needed to get his glove and leave him alone. It was obviously what he wanted. "I just came to retrieve my glove."

"Sorry," Daiba muttered, tossing it to him.

That wasn't what he'd come for though. It was just an excuse. He needed to be polite about this, and he'd easily turned down dozens of girls before. It was just strange with his youngest crewman.

"Kei said she thinks you have a crush on me," he attempted. "That's a bit ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Yeah," the blond sighed, his chin dropping. "It's just stupid."

Oh, no no no, that hadn't been what he'd meant. "I mean," he backtracked, "I would be greatly flattered, but…I don't have relationships with my crewmen. It's just better that way."

"Mm." The teen wrung his hands, his chest aching. Today was not his day. It hadn't been his day in a long time.

"You…deserve someone much better than me anyway," the captain shrugged.

"There's no one better than you," Daiba countered, mumbling as his cheeks heated up again.

"Well I'm useless with relationships." Harlock diverted his eyes. There it was again – that thought. He cursed the teen's fair skin.

"I've never been in one."

"Then just take it from me. I'm not worth your time." Giving in, he strode forward and knelt down in front of the blond. "And I'm certainly not worth your tears."

"I'm sorry," the teen hiccupped, fresh tears welling up in his eyes anyway. "I'm so stupid. I didn't want to like you."

Harlock was slowly tearing down the boundaries he'd put up, and he allowed himself to reach up, placing his hand against his youngest crewman's cheek. "It's not stupid, and neither are you. You shouldn't be sorry. I don't ever want to be in a relationship, because I'd be so scared to lose you." His voice faded to a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Daiba leaned against his captain's hand, happy to feel the worn leather of the glove. Nothing made him happier, and nothing hurt more than being near his captain. And as the man stood, he felt the touch against his cheek slipping away. He wanted to apologize for not being good enough or strong enough, but he knew if he tried to speak, he'd only end up crying again. He really wasn't strong enough. Just a child with a crush was all he was.

Harlock would never want to get close to someone when it could so easily fall apart, but seeing the blond so defeated was causing him pain by itself. So he reached down and took the teen's hand, yanking him to his feet.

Daiba fell against his captain, finding that scent again, the scent of wine and the captain. But now it surround him in a warm embrace. He wasn't sure what it all meant, but for now Harlock was holding him, and he put his arms around him in return because he was happy. He at least knew he was cared for. As long as he had that much, it wasn't so bad.

"Sorry I'm so tall," the captain murmured. But he liked how small Daiba was. That petite frame was so easy to hold, and damnit, his Daiba was cute.

"It's okay," the blond smiled. He could always stand on his tip-toes.

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**I feel bad because there are no boys kissing. Maybe I'll write another one and there will be boys kissing. Hahaha, oh gosh, I'm so embrassed.**


	2. A Little Class (HarlockDaiba)

**Guess I'll just use this area to house all my embarrassing pairing fics. In this one, Daiba learns about wine, and Harlock is a smug boyfriend.**

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After a moment of frowning at the engineering report I'd delivered, the captain turned to frown at the empty bottle of wine on his desk. "Could you go grab a bottle of Sancerre for me?" he requested, nodding to the cabinet.

"Sure," I muttered. I had nothing better to do. Kei had gotten onto me for complaining about being bored and demanded that I go find some means to be of use. Being the captain's butler was useful enough.

He kept enough alcohol in his room to get the whole crew drunk, mostly wine. San- what? It all looked the same to me, especially since I couldn't read the labels with all the bottles sitting in a rack. I pulled out a few, hoping for a lucky guess.

"It's a rose wine," the captain offered.

I tried to pretend that helped me in some way.

"That's red," he noted as I dragged out another. "Daiba, I only have three that are rose."

"Oh!" I realized. "That's their color!"

He messed through his hair, probably fighting off some form of telling me that I was an idiot. "Yes," he responded at length. "Rose wine is pink."

"But…red wine is purple," I countered. "And white wine is yellow."

He stood, shaking his head and walked up to the cabinet, pulling out two bottles and a glass. Then he opened another cabinet, containing a fridge I didn't know he had and pulled out a third bottle before turning back to his desk. "Come here," he called.

I pivoted on my heel and followed him, curious.

"Red wine," he said, taking his seat, "is made from dark grapes. White is made from lighter grapes, and rose is made with some skin on the grape in order to give it some color."

I decided not to ask why this was in any way important.

"Each wine is unique, but you need to develop a pallet for it to properly notice." He uncorked a red, pouring a splash into his glass and the glass he must have gotten for me. "Now you've had red wine before, but that was fairly cheap. This has a much higher value. Try it."

He was letting me drink again? Well…it was just a little. I grabbed the handle of a glass in a fist and knocked the small amount back. "Tastes like alcohol," I offered, unimpressed.

I found him frowning at me, looking a little ticked off. "You don't _drink _wine when you're tasting it," he scolded. "You sip it."

"What am I, a girl?" I snorted. I'd always seen him just down his wine, so I didn't see a problem with me doing the same.

"If you just drink it, you're not going to taste anything. Sip it. See what else you can taste."

It was at that point that I decided the captain might have been a bit obsessed with wine. He took back my glass, pouring me another small amount. I attempted to sip it, holding it in my mouth for a moment. Tasted like alcohol to me. "Yeah, I'm not getting it," I shrugged before knocking back the rest.

He continued to frown at me as he popped open the bottle he'd gotten from the fridge and poured a sample of it for me. "White wine is served cold."

"Why?"

"It's usually served with white meat. Red wine is served room temperature with red meat."

That didn't answer my question. "Is that just to be color coordinated or…?" He usually didn't even eat with his wine. He just drank.

"That's just what they go best with. I prefer red over white, but go ahead, try it."

There really wasn't much difference. Grape juice and alcohol – just like the first. "It's a little sweeter I guess."

"Yes, that red was somewhat dry."

I decided to be polite and sipped the rest under his watchful stare. "Is there a point to this?" I finally asked.

"Just trying to teach you a little culture," he smiled. He looked good when he smiled. Oh, maybe I'd already had too much wine.

He poured me some of the pink one. The way it looked in the glass reminded me of a gemstone . Still tasted just like the others though. I stuck out my tongue, disappointed. "That one got my hopes up."

He stood, still smiling, and headed back to his wine cabinet. I was beginning to wonder if this was all for his own amusement.

He returned with two more bottles, uncorking one as he returned. Curious to see if I could simply remove them like him, I grabbed the second and tugged on the cork.

"You might not want to do that," he noted lazily as he took his seat. "At least don't point it at your face…or my face."

Maybe I wasn't exactly listening. I'd never been known for listening. A startling pop echoed in my ears as the cork flew toward my face and slammed into my nose. I clutched at it, doubled over and cursing.

"Don't spill that," he scolded, snatching the bottle from my hand. "Wine stains horribly. It's sparkling by the way."

"I noticed," I grumbled. Ignoring me, he handed me a glass of the carbonated, yellow mess that had already gotten on my hands. Irritated, I simply drank it. "It's gross," I concluded.

"Alright, try this one."

He gave me some more red, and I sighed heavily. "Fine, but last one."

He nodded.

I was surprised to find it actually sweet. Sure there was that awful taste of alcohol mixed in, but the sweetness made up for it nicely. "That's a dessert wine," he explained. "Usually served with sweets."

"Do we have any sweets?" I questioned, grabbing the bottle to pour myself a whole glass. His brow furrowed at the sight.

"No, not in here at least," he frowned.

"You know, this tastes good at first, but then it has a terrible aftertaste," I said between sips, taking a seat on his desk.

"Are you really going to drink all of that?"

My response was a soft hum. The more I drank, the warmer I felt. It was nice, like a sunbeam heating me up from the inside.

"You should probably stop before you get yourself drunk again."

"It's just a buzz," I smiled, lying back across the desk once I'd finished the glass. "Feels nice."

He cocked a brow as I rolled over to my stomach, placing my chin in my hands. "I probably shouldn't have let you have that."

"That aftertaste is gross," I huffed, sticking out my tongue. "I need some cake or something."

A smile eased back onto his face, and I found myself smiling dreamily just because he was. What was that about too much alcohol? I didn't see a problem.

"You want something sweet?" He was smirking. There was something odd about seeing the captain smirk. Or was there? I didn't know. He sure was attractive when he did.

"Yeah," I pouted. "Think if I drink some more of that sweet wine that-?" As I spoke, he took hold of my chin, tilted my head back, and placed his lips to mine.

I was confused. I stared at him as he pulled away, wondering what just what on Earth that had been about.

Oh, wait. It was a kiss.

My eyes widened, my face becoming even warmer. I scrambled back off the desk and cowered on the floor, hiding from him as my heart pounded in my throat. Oddly, he laughed. "So was that not what you were looking for then?"

He needed to stop. He needed to stop talking and stop being and just stop. I attempted to tell him as much, but the only sound I managed was a startled whine.

"Well I didn't think it was that bad."

Shut up. It wasn't that bad. It was very not bad. I was going to hit him if he tried it again, but I really hoped he would.

"Are you going to come back up? Maybe you should have more wine."

I huddled against the back of the desk, ignoring him, but I found another half-glass of the sweet alcohol lowered down into my line of vision. That bastard.

I snatched it from his hand and vengefully chugged it. I would show him. "Don't make yourself too sick," he called. "Come here."

"No!" I was going to sit there, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"So I'm not allowed to kiss you?"

I hadn't meant that. "You have ta…ask firs'," I slurred. My tongue had stopped cooperating with me, and the room was filled with a fuzzy warmth. When I found myself being lifted off the floor, I was confused, but unconcerned. It was hard to be worried when you felt like you had a blanket covering you. Somehow I ended up in Harlock's arms, cradled against his chest as he sat back in his chair.

"Then may I kiss you?" His voice was a smooth, deep purr, comfortably filling my ear as he whispered into it.

How could I say no? "Mm, alright. Did you get me drunk s' you could take advan'age of me?"

"I didn't force you to drink as much as you did," he countered with a smile before his lips brushed mine. I nearly winced as the gentle kiss deepened. Despite how loose the alcohol made me, I couldn't calm my tensed nerves. He laughed against me, a soft, bouncing hum.

"You're like a schoolgirl," he chided playfully as he pulled away.

"'m new ta this," I grumbled, pinching his cheek in punishment.

"Oh?" Bastard sure looked proud of himself. "So I got your first kiss?"

He had, but he didn't need to be so smug about it. "No, I've kissed hundreds of people 'fore you. And they were all better."

"I see." He didn't sound like be believed me.

"An' you have ta ask permission!" I reminded him, pushing against his chest as he started to lean toward me again.

"Before every single one?"

"Yes!" I demanded. "Or you can't be my boyfrien'."

He snickered quietly, leaning close to press his forehead to mine. "I don't recall agreeing to be your 'boyfriend,' but I can't say I mind the idea."

He was too damn cocky. It was getting on my nerves. And he was really close. Really…really close. I leaned in and kissed him, our noses squishing together. I didn't mind. Kissing him was too nice for anything else to matter. I sighed contentedly as he slipped away.

"You taste like wine," he purred. I thought he tasted much sweeter than any wine.

I leaned against him, only to find myself dozing off. The wine really had gotten to me. I was so warm, and so sleepy. He stood, carrying me along with him. I only vaguely noticed. "I'm sorry, but I'm a bit too selfish to follow your rule," he said somewhere behind the hazy veil covering my ears. I was settled down somewhere soft, and I felt blankets being pulled over me. He kissed my temple before whispering in my ear, "I think I'll kiss you whenever I'd like."

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**Harlock would cuddle with him in bed, but he actually has work to do. Kei's going to be so mad when she sees how unproductive the cabin boy is being. Hahaha, this is such a ditzy little fic. I'm just going to go hide from embarassment. **


End file.
